Dear Recollections
by Glyphron
Summary: Beginning with him saving her life, Marcurio reflects back to all his adventures with the Dragonborn and how he came to his current situation. After which, they part ways. Returning to the lives they'd led before teaming up. But, feisty Marcurio finds himself unhappy with his usual routine.
1. Remembers

His eyes narrowed at the mine's tattered door, his distaste apparent in his features. There would never come a time when going underground did not bother him at least slightly. Filth, possible cave ins, dreary darkness, and the common tight enclosed spaces were all deterring factors for him. Despite this, Marcurio was not so begrudging of such discomfort he would forsake his job.

A mage for hire, he always did what he was paid to do, and he did it well. Using his arcane power, he helped to ensure his employer's success in their endeavors. That is not to say he was just another mercenary, however. He wouldn't work for just anyone, and he held his own code of honor, though the details of that code was no one's business.

Made of flimsy wood, the remnants of the mine entrance had lost its usefulness long ago. Incapable of keeping out the wildlife and the elements, let alone intruders, it was a mystery why anyone would make a base of operations here, even if they were bandits. The questionable construction boasted it to be the property of a very poor company but had long since dried up as the lack of maintenance told of abandonment.

It's name had easily slipped from Marcurio's mind. To him, it was just another man made pit that held no purpose or reason for interest. His employer obviously disagreed. They were here at its gateway after all. Though, there was no need to be hard on her. She was here out of kidness for the troubles of some travelers who could not continue their journey due to the dangers of its inhabitants.

She wasted no time prying open the skeletal remains of the structure's entrance and stepping inside. He followed without a word, hoping the mine's extent was shallow and thus would be quick and painless. But, this was not to be so.

Barely past the tunnel's opening and inside a few steps, they were set upon by bandits straight away. Four greed driven opponents, with glee shining in their eyes. Very rarely had victims walked right into their den and they were eager for their next score. This was going to be among their luckiest of days.

His companion ahead, daggers drawn, she took on two, leaving him to deal with the remaining two. Summoning blazing fire into his fists, he scoffed. These bandits were fools if they thought this fight would be easy. Making a good show of it, he threatened them with its scorching heat in an attempt to sway them to back down. As expected, they paid no heed to his warning.

As they had so blatantly chosen, he let them burn. Raising up his hands, he flexed his fingers and the flames leaped onto their targets. Consisting of magic, they spread with haste causing both enemies to panic. One rushed straight for Marcurio, but was all too easy to dodge. Watching as his first challenger fell to his fate, the second ran straight into the wall and fell to his.

This was one great misfortune. Old and barely holding together as it was, the door's failing insulation had allowed the mine's first few support beams to dry out with the summer drafts. They caught like tinder as the charred bandit fell next to them. Turning, Marcurio called out to HER as she made the final blow and freed herself from combat with the last outlaw. Responding with lithe speed, it was to no avail.

Determination raging in her eyes, she ran towards him as the ceiling came tumbling down upon her. She came close to escaping, but didn't quite make it before a stone struck her on her skull's crown. The brilliant lights of her eyes were extinguished almost instantly sending her stumbling to the dirt. Being close enough to the entrance, he watched, helpless, as his friend was caught in this horrid incident from which he was spared.

Yes, his friend. It was not unusual for him and his employers to become good friends. He was careful in who he accepted work from, and rarely ended up travelling with indecent companions. And, when you are together for long periods of time, shielding each other's backs from the many dangers of Skyrim... Friendship is hard to avoid. She was the longest lasting travelling companion he'd ever had. Their journey together had taken them so very far.

When the earth around him ceased its quivering and the dust began to settle, he peered at the place she had fallen. It was so close, nearly at his feet. Then again, they had not been very far apart at all during the whole escapade. How was it possible there was nothing he could have done?

Rocks had buried her, leaving no trace that she was there. He nearly turned, wishing to see her right behind him, heart pounding from the intensity of the danger but unscathed. But, he knew better.

Brow creased in relentless devotion to his sense of honor, Marcurio set to work throwing stones aside in an attempt to uncover her. He prayed to the Divines that she was still alive, even if barely. Yet, if she wasn't, he was still going to ensure her remains would make it to a proper resting place. He gave his word as if to ensure motivation.

Stone by stone, he dug ever deeper to reach her. It took longer than it should have but he finally found his hands meeting her skin. Hurriedly, he pushed the other stones and dust away to find himself touching her cheek. It was far too cold for his hopes, but as he pressed he could just make out the feel of blood pulsing beneath the skin. He now hoped it was not just his mind projecting what he wanted to feel.

Clearing away the rest of the rubble pinning her down, he pulled her from it. He cradled her limp form close and brought his ear to her chest. The sounds of a flicker of life soothed his ears. With that confirmation, he lifted her and carried her out and away from the mine. It would doom them both if he met the same tragedy that had befallen her while trying to save her life.

Finding a nicely sheltered and hidden place nearby, he laid her down with care. Reaching into his pack, he withdrew the first soft item he could grasp, a sheep skin. He folded it up and tucked it beneath her head, then proceeded to look her over. She bore a few broken ribs, multiple gashes, some severe bruising that was already beginning to show on her pale skin, and a crack to her skull. Anything more than that was internal and near impossible to identify.

Not bothering to search this time, he dumped the contents of his pack upon the ground. Retrieving all the potions of healing he had, he delicately poured the liquid of each one down her throat. When all five vials were empty, he mustered up his arcane energy. The potions had done quite a marvelous job mending gashes and bruising to their later stages of healing, but the severe injuries would need more to alleviate the risk of death.

Time with other companions had taught him just how useful this spell really was. A definite essential for a mage that offers his skills for hire. Casting healing hands, Marcurio pushed himself to hold it as long as he possibly could. Still, as always, there came a point when the spell would no longer answer his will, and he was forced to give it a rest. He would need to cast it again as soon as he was capable of doing so.

For now, he had no choice but to wait for his magika to recover. Still, things were going well. The light pink her cheeks always wore had returned and her breathing was deeper, stronger. Comforted by his friend's improvement, his mind thought back to how this all began...


	2. Perceptions

Leaving the market square, Marcurio frowned at his unfortunate luck. Despite the size and prestige of Riften, even the presnce and power of the Theives Guild, the stock of its merchants still held limitations. Finding that they lacked what he sought, he thought it best to keep his gold in its pouch. Intending to spend it instead on a drink or two to stifle his disappointment. His steps took him toward home.

The sun was low, setting the tips of Riften city aglow. A slight breeze wafted through, bringing with it the smell of damp earth and dry leaves. Autumn was nearing, the weather cooling and the wilderness outside the walls wearing festive colors. Pleasant reds, bold oranges, and tinges of gold spreading through the leaves like a mockery of fire. Truly impressive to witness as the seasons turned. Though, the winter's coming cold was not something he was looking forward to.

He shoved the awareness of this from his thoughts as he came upon the Bee and Barb; a quaint little inn and his place of residence. Its exterior looked rather unimpressive like most of the buildings in this city. The wood had greyed with time and had warped via reoccuring mist that spreads from the waterways below the sreets. Distorted with moisture and worn from use, the door still bore the faded symbol of a bee and fishing barb painted upon it.

Marcurio entered without complaint, he did not mind the drab appearance of its outer walls. It was utterly insignificant. He wandered past the doorway and toward his usual place of seating, gesturing to Keerava at the front counter for his typical preferance in drink. He had stayed long enough for them both to know each otherer's expectations. Nearly reaching the bench he was headed for, his path was suddenly blocked by Talen-Jei.

Like Keerava, he too was Argonian and smitten with his female counterpart. His tough scaled hide was a dark swamp moss green, his eyes piercing, and orange splashed across his throat. As intimidating as he seemed, however, as with most of his kind, when treated with respect he was no enemy. They were a decent enough folk to be sure.

Calling the mage by name, his rough voice informed of opportunity.

"Someone came in looking for you."

Raising a brow in question, Marcurio waited for him to continue.

The lizard like creature motioned with a glance, leading his guest to peer past him to a Mer perched atop one of the bookshelves. A flute in her hands, she was the current source of music that lofted through the room in delicate repetitions. Her tall and slender frame, pointed ears, and large glossy eyes gave her away as full elf.

Though accented with a soft shade of pink in her cheeks and joints, her skin as with her hair, was as pale as the snows of Winterhold. Clear and bright scarlet, her irises nearly covered all the white of her eyes wich were pointed at the innermost edges. Dark eyeliner traced their distinct shape, thicker on the upper lid, but moderately so. Her lashes were long. Cheekbones high, she had slight gaunts below them and a small round chin giving her face an elegant shape. her nose was small and slightly wide, balancing her full lips that bore light smile lines. Her forehead and brow, exposed because her hair was braided back out of her face, were well proportioned, the brows themselves thin.

Protected by leather armor, she was also decorated in furs and bone accents over it. Even her flute was fashioned from bone. These features identified her as Bosmer. Her eyes wide and ever watching her surroundings, her position on a tall bookshelf rather than a chair, even the way she played her instrument told that she had not been in Skyrim long. An air akin to that of a child who is lost and confused eminated from her presence.

She caught him staring and their eyes met. The sweet melody trailed off, the hollow structure that played it falling from her lips with her hands, coming to rest in her lap. So much life seeped from her gaze, crashing into his own, drawing him deeper. He admitted to himself that she was a beautiful creature. Stepping past Talen-Jei, who returned to his duties, Marcurio approached her.

Cautiously, she left the height of her perch and stood before him as he drew close.

"Are you the mage for hire?"

Her voice was soft, clear, and smooth as crystal water.

"Indeed I am. My name is Marcurio, and my skills are unmatched."

Her eyes dart about the room, ensuring there was no need for alarm yet again. She was very uncertain of this place. He could only imagine how different the forests of her home must be from Skyrim. Marcurio also wondered if someone were hunting her with the way she kept careful surveillance of everything around her. Almost as though a beast would appear from thin air and pounce upon her any second.

"I... Would like to hire you... As a traveling companion." She blushes as though shamed.

"Of course. So long as you pay my fee. Have to make a living you know."

The blush deepened, "Yes! I wasn't... How much?"

He gave her the price expected, warned her of his rules. Told her what he would and would not do, making sure his contract was clear. She did not even bother to attempt and barter to get a lower toll. Simply, she emptied her coin pouch, having barely two coppers more than the amount needed. This elf certainly could use his aid. Already, Marcurio had come to think she was too soft to be wandering this land all on her own. One could easily take advantage of her timid nature, and he assumed she'd easily be overpowered in a fight. She had better Toughen up if she wanted to survive here.

"Alright, the debt is paid. We set off when you're ready."

Her expression of relief was overwhelming, the tension left her body. Such an odd reaction, he thought.

"Do you have a name?" He asks with his usual flare.

"Oh! I am called Bellariah. Forgive me. It is a pleasure. That is what your people say, isn't it?"

She inquires of him, so innocent, naive. This would be a strange adventure.

"Indeed..."


End file.
